


Prologue - Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

by MovesLikeBucky



Series: Wasteland Jukebox [1]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, POV Alternating, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 21:47:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16167548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: Preston did not like the rain, not one bit.  He hated the way his boots squashed through the mud.  He hated how the rain fell off the brim of his hat in rivulets; how it obscured his vision.  He hated the smell, all moldy earth and decay.  It had been raining in Quincy, and that just made him hate it all the more.------Sofia loved the rain.  The sound of it on a roof, the dark clouds making everything look somehow softer.  She loved to stand in it and feel it run down her skin.  It made her feel clean and renewed.  She loved the smell that came after, all wet earth and regrowth.





	Prologue - Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This is the Prologue for my series Wasteland Jukebox.
> 
> Check the notes at the beginning in each installment for links to the accompanying music for the chapter.
> 
> For this chapter, we present to you Ella Fitzgerald and the Ink Spots performing "Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall"

_Into each life some rain must fall_

_But too much has fallen in mine_

_Into each heart some tears must fall_

_But someday the sun will shine_

([Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall](https://youtu.be/PJ9IaplRrm4) - Ella Fitzgerald and the Ink Spots)

 

Preston Garvey was not having a good day.  That was the understatement of the century.

Quincy had fallen, Col. Hollis was dead, and so were the Minutemen.  There were twenty from Quincy; they lost five on the way to Jamaica Plain, and they had lost another eight in Lexington.  Seven of them were left now.  Himself and two other Minutemen, an old woman strung out on chems, an engineer, and a couple who had lost their son and most of their will to live back in Quincy. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, it had started to rain.

Preston did not like the rain, not one bit.  He hated the way his boots squashed through the mud. He hated how the rain fell off the brim of his hat in rivulets; how it obscured his vision.  He hated the smell, all moldy earth and decay.  It had been raining in Quincy, and that just made him hate it all the more.

Too much bad, too much pain.  He felt his resolve to go on weakening, but these settlers needed protection.  And, until the end, that was his job.  If he couldn’t bring himself to do anything else, he was going to do his goddamn job.

“Concord is only a couple of hours out,” he told them, “Still plenty of buildings standing and strong, we should be able to hold up there for a little while at least while we get our bearings and send for help.”

“Help? Help like what?  Like you… you… you piss poor excuses for soldiers?!,” Marcy, he was pretty sure that was her name, screamed at him through the thunder, “You idiots aren’t fit to guard a mole rat’s nest!”

“Honey, please, not now.” Her husband, Jun, tried to calm her down.  Preston couldn’t really blame Marcy for her outburst.  Their son, Kyle, had died back in Quincy, at the hands of Clint and his fucking gunners.  Goddamn turncoat.  Preston swore if he ever saw that face again, he’d have his revenge.  But right now, he was just tired.

“Everything’s gonna be fine,” said the old woman, Mama Murphy, was it?  “Concord is where the blue angel will save us, and deliver us to Sanctuary.  The sight never lies.”

“The sight never lies,” Marcy mocked, glaring at the old woman, “the sight hasn’t done a damn thing but get us in trouble.”

“The sight is the only reason that we’re alive, just because nobody else wanted to listen to her but me.  Those gunners would’ve taken all of us if the Minutemen hadn’t been there!”

That was Sturges, the engineer who had called them initially for help.  He had to admit, he found it weird that they would call in the militia for a hunch that an old woman had, but damn what a hunch it was.

At this point the rain was coming down in sheets, the skies dark and cloudy.  The only light they had was the red glow from the charges of the laser muskets, and they needed to keep moving.

“No arguing, there’ll be time for that later, right now we need to press on,” Preston urged them on, despite the conditions.  He took off his faded tan duster jacket and draped it over Mama Murphy.  The woman was very frail, and he didn’t think he could live with himself if she got sick and died on his watch from a little bit of stupid rain.

 

////

 

_Cold…s-s-so….c-c-c-cold._

Sofia Lelouch had escaped her icy cell in Vault 111, only to be face to face with her dead husband, Nate.  She had watched, helplessly, while her son, Shaun, was taken from her.  That was bad enough, but then the man shot Nate point blank in the head, and refroze him in his screams of death.  Sofia, directly across from him, refroze staring into his glassy eyes.

 _“At least we still have the backup”_ the man with the pistol had said, looking into her pod as she screamed.  He’d smiled at her.  Unfeeling, unmoved.  A total monster.

She wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting on the floor of the vault, just staring at her husband and crying.  She had to get up, and she had to keep moving.  That was what her training had taught her so long ago.

She had joined the army at eighteen to try to pay for school. Her parents had been poor immigrants from France by way of Algeria, they didn’t have the means to further her education, especially in the economy of the times.  She always performed exemplary during her time in the military, eventually earning the rank of Sergeant.  Her tactical reasoning, marksmanship, and overall dedication even led to a short stint with West Tek, working on research and development of what would eventually be known as power armor.  They needed real soldiers to test out the actual warfare capabilities of their nuclear powered armor suits.  Sofia was stationed in southern California at the time, and was selected from a small group of officers.  She had to admit the things were fun as hell to pilot.  But the implications of nuclear-powered super soldiers and the technology they were using solely to the benefit of the military industrial complex marked the beginning of her disillusion with organized military forces. She served her time, then left and attended law school.  After passing the bar she became a public defender, helping people who didn’t have the means to help themselves.  She had a keen sense for deception, and would only defend those she truly believed to be innocent. 

She had met Nate while she was stationed in California, and they hit it off immediately.  He was in the army as a job, wanted to make a career of it.  He had been raised by red-blooded southern Baptists from Georgia; where there was no greater glory than service to your country.  She didn’t quite agree with that, but life is short and he was hot.  He had stayed in touch the entire time she was in school, swore he’d marry her as soon as he got the chance.  He had always been diligent in writing her letters after their first stint at the same base, constantly trying to win her heart.  It took her a while, but his persistence had paid off and they became steady lovers, seeing each other every chance they got.  Which really wasn’t often.  Their tours and, eventually, her classes, just didn’t sync up.  They had been dating for almost a decade, but it hadn’t felt like they had really spent that much time together.

But oh man, when they were together.  Like fire and ice, oil and gasoline, opposites attracting in the most powerful way.  So they got married, at a drive-thru chapel in Vegas a week after his honorable discharge. His parents were absolutely appalled. They never liked her, anyway.  She wasn’t a good Southern Baptist girl.  She was pregnant with Shaun two months later, and was sure that her life was going in the right direction. 

But now, both of them were gone.  It had all been a whirlwind for her.  She had been crying for hours, there weren’t any tears left. Just dry, heaving sobs.  She knew what she had to do.  She couldn’t stay here.

She took a deep breath, got up on her feet, and started towards the door.

 

////

 

Preston walked the perimeter of the museum.  It was still raining, and he was on first watch while the settlers and his two fellow Minutemen got some rest.  Mama Murphy was still adamant:  Sanctuary was close, and the blue angel was coming.  He didn’t know what she meant by that, but he figured they’d move out sometime in the morning.  There wasn’t much point to staying here.  The building was sturdy, yes, but the interior was so rotted out it had collapsed upon itself.  He didn’t have the resources or the manpower to try to fortify that. 

An old vertibird was perched on the roof, and Sturges was sure there was a functioning suit of power armor in it.  All they needed was a fusion core.  Might be useful if Clint and the gunners came after them here.

His legs were tired, and ached with all of the travel of the past several days.  He wanted to sleep.  He wanted to scream.  In all reality, he wanted to die.  That wasn’t an option.  At least, it wasn’t an option yet.  He’d keep the watch until midnight, and after that he’d let himself relax.  Franklin and Marsh were still fairly green, but he was certain he could rely on them to keep the later watches without worry.

His thoughts went back to Quincy.  What a clusterfuck.  And Clint, of all people.  He had often regarded Clint to be one of the better among them.  Almost ranked him with Col. Hollis, at the very least in capabilities.  Hell, Clint had been the one to train him on how to use a laser musket when he joined at seventeen.  Power was a hell of a drug, and Clint became an addict.  Why be a decent person when you can just take whatever the hell you want? How could he have been so damn naïve to think anyone in this piss-poor excuse for a world would help anyone just for the sake of helping them?  Wastelanders just didn’t do that, and his idealism would be the death of him, he was sure.

At least it wasn’t raining as hard, and there wasn’t any mud on the streets of Concord.  He still could’ve lived without it. 

He took a rest on a retaining wall, checking the mechanisms on his laser musket.  No one was gonna catch him unaware again.  Not ferals, not raiders, damn sure not gunners.  These people were gonna make it to Sanctuary, wherever or whatever that was, if it killed him.

 _If I’m lucky,_ he thought to himself, _it just might._ He shook himself of that thought.  He was tired, and the easy way out always seemed, well, easy.  He’d never been a fan of easy.

Maybe rested and with a clear head everything would look better. He could shake the pit in his stomach that was threatening to swallow him whole.  He could start to think about how to rebuild.

 

////

 

Well, they never said atom bombs were gentle.

Sofia had walked through the husks of what were once homes in Sanctuary Hills.  Entire lives, stopped in the blink of an eye.  Perversely preserved in the fallout that followed.

Codsworth had still been there, which was insane, but she was happy for a friendly face.  Even if it was made of metal.  He had informed her two hundred years had passed since the bombs fell, and that alone made her want to spiral down into a panic attack. 

She had sat in what was once Shaun’s room, now decrepit and open to the elements.  His crib was still there, and she had to hand it to Nate, the little rocketship mobile still worked.  Two hundred years and his repair job was still holding.  The whole thing seemed ironic to her.  Of all the things to be nuclear-proof:  Fucking superglue.  She still had no tears left, she’d used them all.  One good thing had happened, though. 

It was raining.

Sofia loved the rain.  The sound of it on a roof, the dark clouds making everything look somehow softer.  She loved to stand in it and feel it run down her skin.  It made her feel clean and renewed.  She loved the smell that came after, all wet earth and regrowth.

At least there was something she could rely on.

Codsworth had suggested checking in Concord for other people, maybe someone would be there who could help her get her bearings.  She set out down the road, a little weary of the unknown ahead, scared of what she might find.

So far, she had found a dog.  A very good and well trained dog, all on his own.  Surprising, but welcome.

Not so welcome were the bloatflys, radroaches, mole rats, and everything else this new world had thrown at her.

But she had the pistol she found in the vault, and she had never stopped practicing her shooting (she was always a better shot than her husband, anyway).  And thus, she soldiered on, making her way into Concord just in time to hear the gunshots near the old Revolutionary War museum.

 

////

 

Sometime in between when Marsh had relieved Preston, and when Franklin had picked up from her, they were spotted by raider scouts. Sometime between when Franklin took his shift and now, they had decided to attack.  Marsh had ran out, laser musket at the ready, to take them head on with Franklin.  This plan left them both lying dead in the street.

Preston had the settlers push an old desk into place to try to block the door, while he picked them off from the balcony as best he could. Sturges had been running through information on the museum administration’s terminal and found that the fusion generator was in the basement.  Which was great.  There were only about twenty raiders between them and the basement, totally not a big deal. And then however many they had to fight through to get back up to the roof.

 _Yeah this was a super idea,_ Preston thought to himself.  This was going to be the end of them, he knew it.  From twenty down to five and then gone, just more lives claimed by a wasteland that didn’t give a shit.

The raiders were gonna breach the door, there wasn’t any hope left.

Mama Murphy kept talking about the blue angel.

 

////

 

People in downtown Concord were shooting at each other.

That wasn’t strange, Concord had gone to shit in the last decade or so before the bombs.  More gang violence than anything else, riots over energy, food, and whatever else the destitute of the city needed but didn’t have.

The fetish gear, slightly more strange, but not especially. 

There was a man on the balcony of the old museum, trying to thin out the numbers of the attackers all on his own.  He called down to her, complete desperation in his voice.  “ _There’s settlers trapped in here, please help us!”_ he pointed her to a glowing red rifle lying at the feet of a dead man.  She’d laugh if she could; these guys looked kinda like the war reenactors that used to march up Bunker Hill in the summer. And did he say that was a laser  _musket_.  Like an old school musket; but with lasertech?  _What the actual fuck,_ she thought to herself.  Lasertech was common in her day, but this was a hunk of junk.

She could see the desperation on his face, though.  Goofy weapons or no, there were people in danger, and she was in a position to help.  That had been the only good thing about the military.  At least, that’s what she had thought at the time, when she was young and naïve.  She knew better than that now.

These people needed her, and she was gonna do her best.

She looked down at the German shepherd, “You ready boy?”  He barked in reply and wagged his tail.  She liked German shepherds; good, loyal dogs. Protectors.  Sofia had always liked protectors.

She grabbed the laser musket and went in; more guns, more better, right?

_Remember your training._

////

 

He saw her, blue and furious, taking out the raiders from below.

 _A blue angel, huh,_ he _thought, maybe the old junkie wasn’t so crazy_.

The woman below worked with precision, not wasting any bullets. She had done this before, and he had no way of knowing if she was a friend or foe.  He settled on friend and hoped he wasn’t being stupid.

“Hey, up here, on the balcony!  I’ve got a group of settlers inside!  The raiders are closing in on us, grab that laser musket and help us, please!”

When she picked up the musket and headed for the door, dog obediently following behind, he finally felt some tension in his chest loosen.

“So when she gets through them and then kills us,” said Marcy sarcastically, “You’re really gonna feel like an idiot.”

He really wished she’d knock that off.  He understood she was hurting, but he was trying his damnedest to make sure they all made it out alive and her constant undermining was not helping.

“An angel in blue, a savior from underground, for us and for the Commonwealth.”  Mama Murphy kept repeating, nodding and content.  She had no fears.  He wished he could say the same.

“Marcy, seriously, is now really the time?” asked Sturges, turning to Preston, “Hope she has the good sense to grab that fusion core, or we’re really looking at an uphill battle.”

Preston kept his eyes on the door, listening to the commotion, and hoping, praying, that this wasn’t the last dumb decision he’d ever be able to make.

 

////

 

She had been in the right place at the right time, that was for sure.

Sofia had pulled the core from the generator in the basement, hoping that the shooters wouldn’t work as well in the dark.  It was daylight, but there were so many boards on the old busted out windows that it could’ve well been night time.  She had been correct, they were disoriented and easy to take out.  She made it to the settlers quickly, clearing every room on her way.

Then the man called Sturges had told her about the power armor, the mini-gun, and the need for a fusion core.

Convenient; she had one of those now.

They also needed someone to pilot; Sturges knew how, but his arm had been injured in the initial attack and was in no condition to pilot a mech suit.

No problem. 

So she scaled the rest of the museum, up to the roof, to the power armor and the mini-gun.  Now the “raiders”, as she now knew them to be called, were on the run from them.

After taking out the rest of the raiders, and a run in with what she was told was a Deathclaw (no thanks, don’t wanna see any more of those for a while), they were walking.  She was in the lead with her canine companion (Dogmeat, according to the old woman, was his name), the young couple behind her, Mama Murphy and Sturges in the middle, as the man from the balcony brought up the rear.

The man’s name was Preston Garvey, last member of a small militia unit that had splintered and destroyed itself.  He had a kind smile, when he wasn’t being shot at.  His eyes betrayed him, though.  She’d seen that look plenty of times.  She’d known enough soldiers in her life to be able to tell when they were at the end of their rope.  A bubbling mixture of sadness and anger, hiding just below the surface. 

_Ha,_ she thought to herself, _war never fucking changes._

She decided she liked him the most of all of them, he had some of the same scars that she carried with her.  He wasn’t bad on the eyes either.  Sofia could still appreciate what made people attractive, and Preston was, well, pretty damn handsome.  He had this effortless swagger in the way he walked, with his broad shoulders and soft steps.  And if she were being honest, she’d always been a sucker for a man in uniform.  Even if it was a bit out of date.  The scar crossing his dark face helped, made him look a bit dangerous.  She silently wondered how he got it, but put the thought behind her as they crossed the bridge.

Mama Murphy had said Sofia’s son was alive, and everyone seemed to believe she really could see the future (everyone except Marcy, anyway). She told Sofia the answers would be in Diamond City, wherever that was. 

At the very least she was going to see to it that they all made it to Sanctuary Hills safe.  They were, after all, the first nice people she had met. 

You could never have too many friends, right?

 

////

 

Preston was believing more and more in “the sight”, especially when they got to Sanctuary. Good vantage points, nice land to farm, surrounded by water.  There was even a statue dedicated to the original minutemen from the Revolutionary War. It was much more defensible than the Museum of Freedom had been.  A good place to start a new settlement.  And then there was the vault dweller, Sofia.

He knew why Mama Murphy referred to her as an “angel”. This woman was their savior, come their greatest hour of need.  And she asked for nothing in return.  When he had thanked her and asked her to come along with them to find Sanctuary, she had simply studied him for a moment and then agreed.  No strings attached.

He could see other reasons to call Sofia Lelouch an angel.  She had dark brown hair, almost black, pulled back into a tight bun.  Her eyes were honey-amber, and seemed like they could see right through all of his defenses into his soul.  She didn’t look like a regular vault dweller, with her taught muscles and crooked grin, and the curves he was trying very hard not to notice.  Her tan skin looked so soft, not hardened and worn from life outside.  He had never seen anyone as beautiful as her.  He thought to himself he could call her an angel any day of the week.

Nobody had said he wasn’t allowed to admire beauty and danger, right?  Especially when they came packaged together so nicely.

He wasn’t about to act on that though, especially after he heard her story.  She’d been in cryofreeze since the bombs fell, and her last memory before waking up was someone killing her husband and taking her son.  She damn sure didn’t have time for any of _that_ right now, no matter how much those eyes pulled him in. She needed his help though, and he was determined to help her find her son.  First, she had agreed with him, they had to start to rebuild.

 

////

 

Sofia was a good judge of character.  In her line of work, you had to be. 

These were good people, down on hard times.  And hell, not like anyone was living in Sanctuary Hills anymore anyway.  Plus Codsworth would just _love_ all the extra company. 

There was something about Garvey that made her sure he had no ulterior motives.  His gaze lingered a bit too much, but she was used to that.  She knew she was attractive, it had always been a working point for her.  People underestimated her because of that, which helped her win her fair share of cases. He didn’t mean any harm, though.  Once he stopped his initial staring, he treated her just like everyone else.  He was a protector; had to be.  Getting these people through the hell they'd been through over the past several days was a big accomplishment.  To say she was impressed would be an understatement.  

She’d always liked protectors.  He kind of reminded her of Nate.  That only made her want to cry again.

Preston had sworn he’d help her to find Shaun, and she believed him.  She needed someone to help her figure out this place, and he seemed to know plenty.  It was important to get these people back on their feet first, and she was more than happy to start there. 

The entire reason she had become a public defender was to help people, wasn’t that what she was doing now?

That might be enough, she may just be able to live with herself for now.  Finding Shaun was important, but without context for her situation, she wasn’t gonna be able to get very far.

The extra work wouldn’t hurt either, it could take her mind off of things.

 

////

 

He was taking the first night watch again.  This time, however, he’d be taking all three.  They had gotten a fair amount of work done. Lots of old ruined houses and furniture scrapped, several crops planted.  Sturges had even managed to get an old water pump to work so they wouldn’t be stuck with the irradiated stuff from the creek.  Everyone needed to rest, and Preston was more than willing to stay up. Sofia and Sturges had both offered to take shifts, but he insisted on taking all of them.  Sleep wasn’t gonna come to him anyway. 

Now that they were  _truly_ a little bit safe, he was coming to terms with being the last.  There were no other Minutemen left to hold up the mantle.  Not that he knew of, anyway.  But he’d be damned if he’d let it fall.

Something had changed in him since Concord.  The hopelessness he felt was starting to abate just a bit.  Not like flipping a switch, more like a slow sunrise.  Right now he could feel a hint of warmth peeking over the horizon in his heart.  He could do this, the Commonwealth needed the Minutemen.

As Preston paced around the cul-de-sac that used to be this small neighborhood, he saw Sofia sitting on the front steps of her pre-war home, smoking a cigarette.  She smiled uneasily at him.

He had no idea how she was still holding herself together at all; he’d had a hard enough time with Quincy, and he couldn’t imagine watching someone he loved get murdered in front of him in cold blood.  He supposed the nicotine helped her.  She waved him over, and he decided to rest a minute beside her on the step.

“At least it’s not raining,” he said, groaning at the pain in his legs as he sat next to her, “makes for a nice clear night.”

“I don’t know, I really like the rain,” she smiled back, “Always makes things feel new.”  Things were silent for the next few minutes; not awkward, just comfortable.  Two people enjoying each other’s presence, knowing they weren’t as alone as they were that morning.  She offered him a cigarette, which he declined.  “Suit yourself, Cowboy.  Sure you don’t want me to take a shift?  Or is it no sleep for the weary tonight?”

“No, not tonight,” he replied, “After everything that’s happened, I don’t think I could sleep anyway.  What about you?”

“Fuck it,” she said, laughing cynically, “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.  Already had 200 years thanks to those Vault-Tec scammers, figure I’ll be good for a week or so at least.”

She talked like a soldier, at least like most of the ones he’d known.  Carried herself that way, too.  He didn’t have to ask.  Between her trigger discipline and her attitude, he could tell.  “You know, you really saved our asses today.  I take it you were in the service at some point before the bombs?”

“Yeah,” she took a long drag before continuing, “just long enough to get school paid for, but I took to it like a bee to honey, that’s what Nate used to tell me.  He was so disappointed when I didn’t reenlist.  Ha!”  Preston saw a bit of anger flash across her face before she took another drag on her cigarette.

“Well, look, we owe you.  _I_ owe you; big time.  So if you ever need anything, no matter what it is, I’m here to help you, Sofia.” He smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way, noting the sadness in those big brown eyes.

He was taken by surprise when she leaned in and rested her head on his shoulder.  “You seem like I can trust you, don’t ever prove me wrong, okay, Garvey?” she said to him, and he was sure he heard the first hint of a waver in her voice, “I just need someone to lean on for a minute, so let me cry it out, okay?”

He nodded and draped an arm around her, hoping he could provide this person, still mostly a stranger to him, some of the comfort she desperately needed.  If he could manage that, maybe it would make up for his failures just a bit.  As for proving her wrong?  He had no intentions of ever letting that happen, even now, he owed her so much.

 _Blue angel_ , he thought to himself again.  This definitely took the cake for surprising occurrences in his life.  He had the brief sensation of the rest of his life unfolding.  Like he was at a turning point, and nothing would be the same.  Whatever that point was, he knew he was gonna help this woman.  _Blue angel,_ he laughed to himself, God that was sappy.

There had been too much rain in his life already, maybe he could give someone else some sunshine.

 

////

 

She leaned against his shoulder with his arm around her for what felt like forever.  Two hundred years on ice can make you extremely touch-starved, apparently.  He never moved, never wavered.  Just stayed as long as she needed, kept reassuring her that he was gonna do everything in his power to help her find Shaun.  She cried again, and ran out of tears again, and then cried again.  When those ran out, she got up to go inside.  She thanked him for his time and he tipped his hat to her and went back to his patrol. 

Sofia had to admit to herself that she felt a little better. At least she wasn’t completely alone. She had some new friends to rely on; the Longs were already on their way to making this place into a nice farm, Sturges could do anything with any junk you gave him, and Mama Murphy was a force of pleasantness that you couldn’t help but be a little bit happy around.  Codsworth was here, as he always was, and so happy to have so many new people to serve.  Robots; go figure.  Dogmeat was proving a loyal companion, staying vigilantly by her side since their chance meeting by the old Red Rocket station until curling up on her ruined couch a couple of hours ago for some sleep.  And then there was Preston.

She was drawn to him, she wasn’t sure why.  Somehow she knew she could trust him.  Hell, right now she _needed_ someone to trust.  She couldn’t shake the inexplicable feeling that things might just be okay.  Like right now, she was right where she was supposed to be.

She went inside and curled up in her and Nate’s old bed, now horribly decrepit and uncomfortable, but better than nothing. She tried to sleep but it wouldn’t come, not that that was surprising.

Every once in a while, through the hole in the side of the wall, she saw Preston’s boots walk by, and she felt safer knowing he was out there.  Ever the citizen soldier, keeping the watch.

Sofia was sure she was right to trust him.  He was a military man of sorts, and she knew those types the best.

Despite whatever her opinions on military itself might be, the way he talked about the Minutemen was so much different.  Citizen soldiers, much better than government contracted ones. But if what he told her about Quincy proved anything, war was still war, and military politics were still just that.

Tomorrow they would get started.  They’d plant a few more crops, scrap a few more things, and make sure defenses were good enough that they could leave for a few days.  As soon as things seemed secure here, they’d start for Diamond City.  Based on Preston's description, Diamond City sounded a lot like Fenway Park.  But that was just about the stupidest thing she’d ever heard in her life.  Why the hell would you mess with Fenway?

It was gonna be a long road from here, but somehow she felt it would be worth it.

She had so many tears fall into her heart in the last couple of days; but, she knew, the sun had to come back out and shine eventually.

**Author's Note:**

> So I had to start off a little slow; the main purpose of this prologue is to set up Sofia as a character and to set the tone for the series. I wanted to include my take on how they met and how they felt at that time. Expect fluff, angst, mutual pining, and only the best of fanfic tropes in the series as it goes along. It's a series that will mainly take place in the moments between big undertakings in the game, going onward to after the final ending. Hope you guys enjoy, this is my first time writing in several years.


End file.
